Divorced On Wedding Day I Faked Death To Escape

The Elite Scion of the city’s most powerful family and I had signed our marriage certificate in the morning. By the afternoon, he was bringing me back to sign the divorce papers.

I stood frozen, gripping the red and green folders—marriage and divorce—while his friends’ cruel laughter echoed around me.

“Ryder King, you actually married and divorced the heiress just because Willow Lane asked you to?”

“Haha, look at the big sister’s face! She’s pale. Is she going to cry?”

Ryder, however, slipped his arm around Willow, the girl he’d been raised with, and spoke in a gentle, almost caressing tone:

“We have both certificates now. Will you finally smile for me?”

Willow let out a soft gasp of laughter, and a rare smile blossomed on her delicate, cool face.

I tried to storm forward and demand an explanation, but my three older brothers held me back, their grips like steel manacles.

Asher, the CEO and my oldest brother, frowned down at me:

“Willow only smiles when Ryder teases her. Just show some restraint, Sierra.”

Jax, the Movie Star and my second brother, actually shoved me back, making me stumble onto the pavement:

“She’s had a tragic life. You have everything, you don’t lack a single man.”

Owen, the Biology Professor and my third brother, his face grim:

“Ryder should have married her years ago. Stop trying to come between them.”

They physically forced me into the back seat of the car, forbidding me from interfering with the happiness of the woman they considered their Golden Girl.

The system, which had been silent for an eternity, finally pinged in my mind:

[Host, detection complete! The Capture Mission is a success! Return to the real world immediately?]

I sat in the back, staring out the window with a look of feigned melancholy, and nearly burst out laughing.

The tragic play I’d been acting for this mission was over. Their tangled web of love and resentment? I was done with it forever.

1

[Detection complete: Capture Value with the Mills brothers and Male Lead has reached 95%! Marriage to Male Lead Ryder King complete! Congratulations, Host, on completing the mission!]

[Upon the physical death of the Host body, you will return to the real world and receive the one-hundred-million-dollar reward! Your bone cancer will be cured!]

I swallowed the ecstatic scream that built in my chest.

Finally. I was going home.

Asher and Owen stayed behind with Willow. Jax was tasked with driving me back to the family estate.

I glanced over at Jax. He’d had a thunderous expression since we got in the car, clearly resentful of the assignment.

It wasn’t until Willow texted him that a slight, unwilling smile finally touched his lips.

Catching my eye, he immediately turned off his phone, scowling:

“What? Still clinging to hope? Still thinking about going back to ruin things for Ryder and Willow?”

“Willow is young, and she’s suffered so much. Why can’t you just let her have this?”

I dug my nails into my palms and managed a self-deprecating smile.

I was actually a year younger than Willow.

Perhaps seeing my expression, Jax sighed suddenly:

“Apologize to Willow for all of this, and don’t be so dramatic.”

He reached out a hand, intending to pat my head, but I subtly pulled away.

“Why do I have to apologize? What exactly did I do wrong?”

His hand froze, and he snapped back, impatient:

“Sierra Mills! Don’t be so ungrateful!”

I closed my eyes. Even though it was for a mission, I’d developed some genuine affection for them over the years.

There were times when their coldness had truly wounded me.

But now, it was all over.

“After Willow’s competition is finished, you’ll come with us and apologize to her.”

I didn’t reply, focusing instead on confirming something with the system internally:

[As soon as this body dies, I can leave, right?]

[Affirmative.]

I slowly exhaled and observed my surroundings through the window.

Certain that I wouldn’t harm any innocent bystanders, I flicked the door lock and abruptly yanked the car door open.

Jax, who had been rambling on, screamed:

“Sierra, what are you doing!”

I ignored him, throwing myself out without hesitation.

The frigid wind tore across my face, and a massive sense of freefall overwhelmed me.

I clenched my eyes shut, completely unafraid.

But the next second, a strong arm clamped brutally around my waist.

I was shielded in someone’s embrace as we tumbled violently toward the roadside scrub.

As the world spun, I heard a muffled grunt.

We rolled a few times, a desperate, clumsy mess, and finally stopped.

The person holding me was bleeding profusely, scratched up by the branches, but I was completely untouched.

I looked up, meeting Jax’s horrified face, and spoke calmly:

“Let go.”

Jax stared at my indifferent expression and roared:

“All I did was criticize you a little! You jump out of a moving car over something so small? We’ve spoiled you rotten!”

“Is this another one of your stunts for attention? Cut the manipulation!”

I tuned out his ranting and peeled his hands off me.

Standing up, I looked around and spotted a black SUV speeding toward us.

“I’ll hit it myself. Remember to pay for the damages to the car.”

I tossed the words over my shoulder and lunged into the path of the oncoming vehicle.

“Sierra!”

Jax shrieked in utter despair, scrambling to his feet, but it was too late.

I was full of hope, anticipating death.

Even though I’d eventually die in the real world, too, I didn’t want to spend another second in this one.

The screech of tires was deafening. The black SUV managed to slam to a halt just inches away.

I staggered back a few steps and fell right into Jax’s arms as he dove toward me.

“You’re insane! Sierra Mills, are you actually insane?”

His eyes were bloodshot. His fingers frantically traced my face, my shoulders:

“Did you hit anything? Are you hurt? Tell me!”

Disappointed that I hadn’t died, I lowered my gaze.

I saw the pooling blood soaking Jax’s pants. His injury was clearly severe, still dripping blood onto the asphalt.

If this had happened before, I would have been sobbing uncontrollably, wishing I could take his place.

Now, I merely looked away with indifference.

“What? I need your permission even to die?”

2

Jax froze, looking utterly incredulous.

I scoffed, walked around him, and approached the driver of the black SUV, who was still muttering angrily:

“I’ll transfer the compensation money to you later.”

Jax stood rigid, his fists clenched, the corners of his eyes turning red.

I was surprised, then realized:

“Oh, I meant I’ll use my own money, not the family’s…”

“Sierra!”

He cut me off, unable to contain his frustration.

But then, I saw a flicker of genuine hurt—even whininess—in his expression.

“You are the only daughter of the Mills family! Even if I gave you the entire family fortune, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second!”

I found this ridiculous. I looked him dead in the eye:

“Is that so?”

His body jolted, as if the reality of his own words had just struck him.

The nominal “Mills family daughter” right now was Willow Lane.

And I, the true Mills heiress, was nothing more than a disgraced, delusional attention seeker!

I laughed, a harsh, unrestrained sound, even as tears unexpectedly spilled down my cheeks.

I used to be inseparable from Jax; he’d even take me to movie sets.

But now, he would only look at me with a cold face and order me to always yield to Willow Lane.

Jax dragged me back into the car, his head bowed.

“When Willow gets her Physics Prize, we’ll announce that you’re the true Mills heiress…

“Everything before was just a misunderstanding…”

I couldn’t be bothered to respond, turning my face toward the window.

The scenery rushed by, a fleeting blur.

Before I crossed over, I was an orphan.

A routine check-up had revealed bone cancer.

I had been lying in the hospital, blacking out from the agonizing pain.

When I woke up, the system had sent me into this world, into the body of a six-year-old child.

A voice had spoken in my mind:

[Achieve an 80% Capture Value with the Mills brothers and Male Lead Ryder King, and marry Ryder King, to receive the one-hundred-million-dollar reward and return to the real world.]

After that, there was a burst of static, and I thought the entire thing might have been a hallucination.

Still, a chance at a healthy body and a second life wasn’t bad.

The car drove steadily. Jax was still gripping my wrist fiercely.

His fingertip gently stroked the back of my hand—the way he used to soothe me when I couldn’t sleep.

As an orphan, I had desperately craved this favoritism.

I’d even considered abandoning the mission and staying.

But once Willow, the orphan I brought home, appeared, all that gentleness became her exclusive property.

I went from pouting and sulking to desperate hysterics.

The only reply I ever received was:

“Stop being so dramatic. Look at how pathetic you are.”

The car stopped at the Mills estate gate. I snatched my hand away from Jax and got out.

Jax called after me, disbelieving:

“Sierra, I’m hurt. It was for you…”

I interrupted him, my expression blank:

“If you’re hurt, go see a doctor. What good does telling me do?”

I pushed open the front door. The first thing I saw was Willow, seated on the sofa, the center of everyone’s doting attention.

Asher’s face was stern. He gave Ryder a hard punch on the shoulder:

“Willow hasn’t been able to eat or sleep properly for three days because of you! How could you be so careless with her?”

Willow quickly tried to intervene:

“Asher, Owen, I’m really fine. It was all a misunderstanding. It’s all sorted out now.”

I stood in the doorway, admiring their sibling devotion.

[Host, dopamine levels are dropping…]

The system’s inorganic voice sounded unusually subdued:

[So, Host, are you feeling very sad right now?]

3

The system’s question nearly broke me. I hastily wiped the dampness from the corner of my eye.

Jax walked up beside me. Before he could speak, Willow cried out and rushed toward him:

“Jax, why are you so badly hurt? You…”

Her sentence was cut short by my hand slapping across her face.

Willow clutched her red, swollen cheek, staring at me in disbelief.

Almost instantly, a powerful, open-handed blow sent me sprawling onto the floor.

Asher pointed at me, his face alight with fury:

“Sierra Mills! We have truly spoiled you beyond measure! Apologize to Willow!”

I scrambled up from the floor, spitting out a thin trail of blood:

“Apologize? What did I do wrong? I’ve become a discarded second-hand wife, and I’m not allowed to hit the homewrecker?”

Asher grew even angrier, his voice spiking:

“What nonsense are you spewing? Willow and Ryder were always meant to be together! You were the one who forced your way in!”

“How can I have a sister as shameless as you?!”

I laughed out loud:

“Shameless? Ryder King was my fiancé! And now I’m the one who forced my way in!”

Ryder stared at me, his voice glacial:

“Our engagement was called off ages ago! The King family would never want a woman with your reputation!”

Owen grabbed me and hauled me up off the ground:

“Sierra Mills! Apologize!”

I said nothing, my eyes scanning the faces of the men before me.

Asher’s gaze was cold, Owen’s filled with disgust, and Ryder looked like he wished I would just drop dead.

Jax frowned, his lips moving, but he ultimately remained silent.

It was exactly like a year ago, when Willow, frequently seen with Jax, was mistaken for a stalker fan by the media.

Unable to bear it, Jax revealed on social media that Willow was the Mills family daughter.

And I, the true heiress, was forced to take the fall and shoulder all the online abuse for Willow.

“You have bodyguards wherever you go. Willow is all alone!”

I had been shocked, resistant, and had cried and screamed.

The way they looked at me then was exactly how they looked at me now.

All I felt was an overwhelming fatigue. I didn’t even have the energy to argue anymore.

I yanked my arm out of Owen’s grasp, walked into the living room, and picked up a fruit knife from a nearby table.

Jax, horrified, tried to rush over, but Willow clung to his arm:

“Sierra, what are you doing?!”

I looked at Willow, a wide, distorted smile stretching across my face:

“I’m apologizing!”

I didn’t look at Asher, Owen, or Ryder, who were all standing as if preparing for battle. I raised the knife and decisively plunged it into my chest.

A chorus of screams erupted. I laughed, and I cried:

“I’m paying her back with my life. Is that enough?”

“Are you satisfied now?”

Warm, viscous blood surged out. The dizziness from blood loss made me sway.

Through my blurring vision, and amidst a chaotic roar of voices, I saw pure terror on the men’s faces.

Jax threw himself at me, clutching my body, and screamed like a maniac:

“Call an ambulance!”

I woke up to the heavy, sterile scent of disinfectant.

The blinding white room made me slightly giddy. Had I succeeded? Had I returned?

I turned my head and met Asher’s bloodshot eyes.

Annoyed, I closed my eyes. Asher’s hoarse voice sounded shrill and irritating for the first time:

“Sierra Mills! Who taught you to try and kill yourself just for attention!”

I felt even more irritated. Something hard was digging into the back of my head.

I reached up and pulled it free: a small, slightly worn Silver Saint’s Medallion.

I remembered it instantly. When I was twelve, I had a high fever for a week, and the hospital issued three critical condition warnings.

Owen had climbed a thousand steps, kneeling for every one, to retrieve this exact medallion for me.

Later, when Willow was injured, Owen gave it to her.

Now, it was back in my hands.

I only found it bothersome. I lifted my hand and tossed it away.

Owen had just walked into the hospital room. He watched, stunned, as the medallion clattered onto the floor.

He looked up, glaring at my face:

“Sierra Mills, you just threw away that medallion?”

4

I frowned, my voice flat:

“It’s a dirty object. What, am I not allowed to get rid of something I don’t want?”

Owen’s chest heaved violently. His eyes were filled with rage and a strange, sharp pain.

He abruptly lifted his foot and stamped down on the medallion, grinding it under his heel, before sneering in mockery:

“Sierra Mills, you truly are spoiled and heartless! You’re an ungrateful viper!”

“No wonder Ryder chose Willow over you. You…”

“Owen!”

Asher cut him off, his tone heavy.

Owen’s eyes were red. He stared intensely at me, searching for any hint of sadness or regret on my face.

But all he found was my face, calm as still water.

Owen shook with rage, a low, guttural growl escaping his throat:

“Sierra Mills! That medallion belongs to Ryder. It was only loaned to you! Who are you to throw it away!”

A strange calm settled over me. I replied simply:

“I’ll pay him back.”

My placidity enraged Owen completely. He pointed at me and yelled:

“Stop pretending! If that’s your attitude, then go get a new medallion right now! One thousand steps—if you miss even one, it doesn’t count!”

Asher tried to object, but Owen silenced him with a look.

Clearly, Asher also saw this as a perfect opportunity to force me into line.

My knife wound wasn’t life-threatening; they were certain this was just another performance for attention.

When I arrived at the mountain temple outside the city, it suddenly began to rain.

The thousand stone steps were slick with rain and freezing cold. I knelt directly onto them.

My wound soaked in the rainwater, and a bone-deep, excruciating pain spread through my body.

But I felt nothing, telling myself over and over:

This is the last time. This is me paying Owen back.

I don’t know how long I knelt, but I finally received the new medallion.

I was soaked to the bone, my head swimming and burning with fever.

I pushed open the Mills front door and walked directly into a bustling celebration.

Willow was the center of attention, holding a Physics Prize trophy, her face radiant.

My entrance instantly shattered the warm atmosphere.

Asher was the first to frown and scold me:

“Sierra Mills! Look at the state of you! You look nothing like a Mills heiress!”

Everyone’s eyes darted toward me—some with disdain, others with impatience. Not one person showed concern.

I ignored them, walked straight to Willow, and placed the medallion in her hand.

Willow flinched back, feigning modesty, though a flash of triumph crossed her eyes:

“Sister Sierra, please don’t do this. I don’t blame you…”

I couldn’t stand her manipulative act. I turned to leave.

I heard the angry voices of Asher and Owen behind me.

I pretended not to hear a thing and walked straight into my room, locking the door behind me.

I pulled out the razor blade I had prepared in my drawer and slashed my wrist without hesitation.

The moment the blood gushed out, I felt a lightness I hadn’t felt before.

Jax’s voice was outside the door, knocking:

“Sierra, open up. I need to talk to you.”

I was fading, too weak even to speak.

Owen’s impatient voice followed:

“Ignore her! She’s just throwing another tantrum for sympathy. We’ve enabled her for too long!”

Jax finally gave up. I heard their footsteps retreating.

I finally closed my eyes, content, and my soul lifted lightly from my body.

Just as my spirit hovered in the air, the door was violently kicked open.

Asher stormed in, his face livid, followed by Jax and Owen.

“Sierra Mills, you’re not going to…”

His voice died instantly. The crimson scene on the floor filled the room.